


Supreme Human Experience

by unfolded73



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-28
Updated: 2009-07-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:02:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21787945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfolded73/pseuds/unfolded73
Summary: Prompt fromThe Joy of Sex: "If sexual love can be - and it is - the supreme human experience it must also be a bit hazardous."
Relationships: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Kudos: 13





	Supreme Human Experience

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published as part of a prompt game by the_tenzo on livejournal, July 28, 2009.
> 
> Notes today: Making one more push to archive all the stray fics that I never posted here because I saw my word count was approaching 800,000, and it was making me crazy that there are fics I've written that might be lost to the aether.

Things didn't turn out the way she'd imagined it.

The journey from Bad Wolf Bay to Bergen to London to home was long and monotonous, and the Doctor, suffering from his own sort of regeneration sickness ("He's like a newborn baby, Rose," Jackie had said, "and newborns sleep"), had dozed for most of the trip. Rose was left beside him, her sweaty hand clasped in his or tucked through his arm, with nothing to do but imagine the way their lives might unfold. Every feeling coursed through her, from elation to rage to grief and sadness, and as the emotions swamped her, different scenarios presented themselves. He wasn't the Doctor, she thought wildly, he was a _thing_ , and who was the Doctor to tell her to look after him like he was an abandoned puppy? Of _course_ he was the Doctor, she thought a bit later, studying his face in sleep, and her heart clenched with love for him. She would take him home and undress him and make love to him, because it's what she had wanted for all of that time apart. He was damaged, he was genocidal and broken and how could they build a life on that? It would fall apart, she thought in a panic, and how shaming that what she'd thought of as an epic romance to end all epic romances might shatter just like hundreds of relationships did every day. No, they would take it slow, she thought, they would take it slow and be friends first, before she allowed them to become lovers again. Then he finally awoke and stood and stretched his arms above his head, revealing a strip of flesh above the waistband of his trousers. The shadow of a crease in the flesh next to his hipbone and the smattering of hair leading down from his navel were mesmerising. That was all it took to send her mind ratcheting back toward the option of sex as soon as they could possibly manage it.

The thing that Rose never considered, not even for a moment, in all of the scenarios that she had considered, was that they would be abducted by aliens before they could even have a proper meal.

It was a ship that had been orbiting Earth for weeks, apparently, and all Rose knew was that she was going to have a word with some people at Torchwood that no one had detected it. She supposed that the stars going out had taken everyone's attention away from more mundane threats.

Their scanners had picked up the Doctor, with his hybrid DNA and pockets full of alien tech ("I keep a lot of things in the pockets of this suit, same as the other one," he explained, and she wondered how he'd kept track of what was in which suit,) and had teleported them aboard without so much as a warning to pack a bag.

"There's something oddly comforting about this," he said as they were locked in a small cell without even so much as camp bed to rest on, "being thrown in jail with you. Makes it feel like nothing's changed since the old days."

She laughed then, a full-throated laugh that filled the small space, and he laughed too. She leaned against him and looked up into his eyes and then just like that they were kissing.

His mouth was warmer; she'd noticed that even on the beach, but now she could catalogue all the things that were different and all the things that were painfully familiar about kissing him. There were many more of the latter. Perhaps at home, she would have balked, perhaps she would have pulled away and put some distance between them ( _too soon, it's way too soon_ ), but confined to such a tiny space, there was nothing but him. Nothing but _them_. No doors or windows or carpets or mortgages or future. Just the Doctor and Rose and right now.

"I was afraid I'd forgotten the way you tasted," he mumbled against her lips.

Her fingers stroked the hair at the nape of his neck. "Did you?"

"No." His mouth opened against hers again. "You're exactly the way I remember."

He had his back against one wall, and without thinking too much about it, Rose found herself fumbling with the fastening of his trousers, wanting to touch him everywhere but settling for _there_ , where she hoped he most wanted her touch. His resulting gasp when she grasped his erection was gratifying.

"This isn't the way I ..." He trailed off in a moan as she stroked him. "I would've wanted something a little more romantic, the first time we ..."

"Not the first time," Rose said, her words proven by how well she knew exactly how he liked to be touched.

"I know," he said, his hips moving with her fist, "but the first time in this body. First time of the rest of our lives together. Should be special."

She kissed him sweetly on the lips. "It's _you_ , Doctor. So believe me, it's special." And then she slid down to her knees and took his cock into her mouth.

It was over quickly. He made different sounds, surprised sounds, like the way she was making him feel was something new. Perhaps it was. When he came, Rose thought his pained groan was one of the most lovely things she'd ever heard. She was out of practice, she realised with some chagrin, and struggled to swallow without gagging. So when she heard the Doctor say, "Ow," she thought she'd bitten him or something.

"Sorry, you all right? I'm sorry." She jumped to her feet and saw that he had a hand on the back of his head.

"Ow," he repeated, rubbing his scalp. "Hit my head when I ..."

Rose tucked his softening penis into his pants and refastened his trousers. "Let me see," she said, and he bent over obligingly. He really had smacked his head rather hard -- a knot was starting to form -- but the skin was unbroken. "You'll be fine," she pronounced, kissing the spot very gently.

"It would seem that sex can be a bit hazardous," he said, his face flushed. Then the Doctor pulled her close, his hands beginning to explore her body. "On the other hand, if that's the way humans routinely experience it, it's no wonder."


End file.
